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John Lennon’s Birthday

Yesterday would have been John Lennon’s Birthday. He was born, lived and died before I even came into existance. But I grew up listening to the Beatles catalogue. My mum had all of their albums on vinyl record and I used to love pulling them out of their jackets and gently place them onto the turn table. I would stare at the jackets while the record would play and imagine what it would have been like to live in a time when the Beatles were just starting and to hear the music for the first time. I once asked my mum who was her favourite and she told me she liked John Lennon for his looks but prefered Paul McCartney’s voice but that they were two peas in a pod – their musical genius came from each other, they fed off each other. She believed you couldn’t really love their music without loving both of them because they did after all, at least as the Beatles write their songs together.

It would have been John Lennon’s birthday yesterday and I wonder if he would have become close to Paul McCartney again, if he would have mended the relationship with her eldest son, Julian but there’s no reason to wonder one thing and that is if he would have still been great: he would’ve been. Even in death he is still great and the things he contributed to this world are great but I believe had he lived, had he not had his life ripped away by some crazy man, he would have gone on change the world even more than he already had.